Armanno's Intreccio
by jerseygrl90
Summary: 2 soldiers form a love during the toughest of times. But as a war rages on, will they be torn apart by the very thing that brought them together?


0HOLA! This is Thugette90 AKA Christi! I'm here to bring you my very first, dramatic chapter story! WHOO! Now, this is based on a true story, and EVERY single character is based on a real person. Most of this story is based on facts, but there are some things I had to change to fit the story, or I didn't know, such as people's thoughts that I pretty much HAD to make up. Now, to warn you, Cyborg WILL be in this story, but has quite a minor role, honestly. Oh, and if you're wondering about the title, I couldn't really think of anything that really catches your attention so I picked out a simple title, but translated it to Italian since I am part Italian. My Italian sucks, but I'm pretty sure the translation is correct. If not…oh well! LoL. Now to explain who the Titans are based on…

RICHARD GRAYSON (Robin)- _Joey O'Donnell_

KORI ANDERS (Starfire)- _Jamie Cameron_

GAR LOGAN (Beast Boy)-_ Rodriquez (don't know his first name)_

RACHEL ROTH (Raven)- _King (Don't know her first name)_

VIC STONE (Cyborg)- _Male Drill SGT._

KAREN BEECHER (Bee)-_ Female Drill SGT._

LoL. If you're wondering why I don't know Rodriquez or King's first name, it's because in the ARMY they just address you by your last name, so that's what Joey and Jamie called them. Alright, now damn, near EVERYONE in this story is based off of someone, so before every chapter, if there is a new person introduced, I'll tell you who they're based off of. K? K. Now, On to the story!

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_THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO RUPERTLOVERR09 AND DARKANGELCHIC FOR ALL THEIR AWESOME EMAILS, LISTENING TO MY ADVICE, HELPING ME OUT, AND JUST BEING COOL INDIVIDUALS! (HUGS)_

Christi

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_THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO THE SOLDIERS, AMERICAN OR NOT, SERVING THEIR COUNTRIES OVERSEAS. WE'RE VERY PROUD OF YOU. PLEASE RETURN HOME SAFELY. YOU'RE IN MY PRAYERS ALWAYS. GOD BLESS._

Christi and your loving supporters at fanfic

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Teen Titans. But, I do own the idea for this story. Wait…do I? I mean it's based on true events, so can anyone really own reality. Or, even a certain aspect of reality? Okay, my head hurts so I'll just say I don't own squat k? LoL.

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Chapter 1: Basic Training- Week One

'_What am I doing here? I could be sitting on the couch, at home, with my friends, playing videogames, without a care in the world. But no, I just HAD to make something of myself._' A young man thought bitterly.

He gazed out the fog-ridden window with a sigh. There was a thick silence that filled the bus, with the exception of the low hum of the vehicle's engine. He rested his tan forehead against the cold glass of the window. His ice-blue eyes followed the passing cars as well as he could through the misty pane.

His memories drifted back to his former, comforting home. The small, one story brown house with the red shutters that he grew to love over the years. His old black Cocker Spaniel sitting contently on the arm of the couch, staring aimlessly out the window. Even the mind numbingly boring city that he couldn't wait to get out of was a longing of his right about now. Then again, he'd rather be anywhere in the world right now than where he currently was. On a stupid, cold, b.o. filled hell hole that the government so graciously called a bus.

He pulled his gaze from the window for the first time to observe his fellow passengers. Every person he saw was nothing more than a shell of a human being. Obviously shaken in anticipation, and probably fear of what their very near future would hold for them. Young men and women, none of them older than 21 sat fidgeting with any nearby object they could get their shaking palms on. Could they even be _called _men and women? No. The law may say that if you're 18, you're an adult, but these people certainly were not. They were boys and girls, somebody's children. Some nervous mother's baby off to practically give their existence for the next few years to the United States Government…_children. _

Before, he was just in a state of shock and denial. But, after observing the other occupants on the bus, he began to question his choices in life as well. He simply turned up the volume on his CD player to drown out his negative thoughts. He then absent mindedly picked a stray ebony piece of hair from his thick navy coat before returning his gaze to the window.

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Nearly an hour had passed and still, not one word was uttered. The black haired 18 year old slowly rested his head against the brown seat in attempt to get some well needed rest. His heavy lids slid closed, and pleasant memories filled the young man's mind, a tiny smile creeping across his lips.

The first of his happy recalls was a clear image of him, in his old blue and white basketball jersey. The crowd roared wildly in his praise. This often happened in his games. Chants of _'Warriors, Warriors, Warriors'_ echoed throughout the old gym as he made yet another basket for his beloved team. A buzzer sounding, whistles and cheers, and the name 'GRAYSON' moving up and down his back with the rest of his body as he jumped in exhilaration.

'_Yeah, I was an athletic golden child wasn't I?' _he thought in arrogance.

His smile was quickly ripped from his features as he moved on to a more recent memory.

It was but a few hours ago. Everyone was loading into the bus expecting to just get on and leave. Oh, how he wished he were right. When everyone was seated, another man, looking to be in his mid thirties, walked powerfully to the front of the vehicle. He donned the signature green and brown BDU's and the infamous brimmed hat that let the world know that he was a Drill Sergeant, a soldier's best friend and worst enemy. The towering man looked around the bus in disgust. Intimidation was practically written across all the passengers' foreheads. Then, in a deep booming voice, he yelled,

"Listen up ladies! Now, I am gonna say this one goddamn time, and one goddamn time only! So you better pay excellent fuckin' attention, cause if I am to EVER repeat myself, you will get smoked the shit out of! Now, for some of you candy asses that don't know what getting 'smoked' means, it means that I will make you drop down in a puddle of goddamn mud, and you WILL do push ups, you WILL do sit ups, you WILL run in place, and if I hate you enough, you WILL do a fucking dance of my choosing! And so help you god if that mud dries up, I WILL get a fucking hose and finish what I started cause you SURE AS HELL WILL! I am _not_ your daddy. I am _not _your momma. And you are _sadly_ fucking mistaken if you even SUSPECT that I am your damn friend!'

By this time, everyone looked scared as hell. Even the bus driver had inched over in his seat. The drill sergeant seemed to stare into the soul of every single person on that bus. If looks could kill, everyone would have suffered a slow, painful, and very brutal death. The beastly man then added coldly,

"And if any of you little pansies have the slightest intention that you're gonna be weak at ANY time, get out of my sight now! Run home like a little bitch so your momma can make your sweet ass a bologna sandwich!"

Then, he did something that no one expected, even from him. He grabbed a random guy's shirt by the collar, and thrust him closer to his sequoia-like body, staring him down with his cold grey eyes

"GOT ME HONEYCUPS!"

Jaws dropped, underwear was soiled, and as soon as his shirt was free, the poor soul dashed out of the bus, along with 2 others.

"ANYONE ELSE!"

Heads violently shook 'no', and a simultaneous, "no sir" was heard. A look of pure anger etched across the African American drill sergeant's solemn face.

"THAT'S DRILL SERGEANT TO YOU SONS' A BITCHES! You are to address me by either Drill Sergeant as a group, or Drill Sergeant Stone if you are talking to me by yourself. If I hear the word sir directed towards me, that asshole is eating grass for the next three days, is that understood!"

"Yes Drill Sergeant!"

"COME AGAIN?"

"YES DRILL SERGEANT!"

"Alright! Now, let's get this show on the fucking road."

With that said, Drill Sgt Stone took a seat up front and the bus pulled away from the curve. That…was just the beginning

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Sleep never came for the raven-haired teenager. Lord knows he tried. The tension seemed to be growing within the bus as signs for Ft. Knox began to appear more frequently on the side of the road, until one stated 'FT. KNOX NEXT EXIT'. He hit the 'off' button on his CD player as the familiar beat left his ears.

'_Crap'_ he thought as Drill Sgt Stone stood up once again.

"Alright ladies, single file outside now!" Stone demanded.

Naturally, everyone did as he asked. Solemn faces quickly file out on to the depressing tan dirt, taking backpacks and duffel bags with them. As they stood in as straight a line as humanly possible, another Drill Sergeant came out of a small building a few yards ahead. Although it was a little unclear at first, upon closer inspection, the new privates could see that this Drill Sgt was female. Like Drill Sgt Stone, she was also African American, and tall, though not quite as tall as her male accomplice. She looked to be about late twenties to early thirties, but no doubt was wise beyond her years. Her honey colored eyes hard but strangely calming at the same time. A serious and determined expression was practically plastered across her face.

"This is Drill Sergeant Beecher. Do not let her gender fool you. She will hesitate less than any other Drill Sergeant here to beat your sorry ass with the nearest object she can find. Is this understood!"

"YES DRILL SERGEANT!"

Drill Sgt Beecher eyed the privates from beneath the brim of her hat in a very judging manor, before walking slowly down the line trying to separate the weak from the weaker. She stopped at the ebony haired boy and said demandingly,

"What's your name private?"

He stared straight ahead without even flinching and replied,

"Richard Grayson Drill Sergeant."

"Well, Private Grayson, you get the privilege of carrying every fucking bag out here one by one into the office I came out of? Understood?"

"Yes, Drill Sergeant."

And with that, Richard trudged in the blistering cold carrying each and every individual piece of heavy luggage into the office. Meanwhile, the rest of the bus had to remain silent and perfectly still and watch him in 35-degree weather. Drill Sgt Beecher had left a while back to get to her new privates most likely. And Richard just complied, and thought to himself.

'_Damn ARMY. Damn December. Damn Drill Sergeants. Damn luggage…'_

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Well, what did you think? Hope you liked it. If not, well then, don't review cause I do not accept flames. Just constructive criticism and niceness! WHOO! Well, reviews please! (hugs)

Oh, and by the way, could you PLEASE check out my friend's stories? They are REALLY good it's scary. If you like suspense, you will thoroughly enjoy them. I promise. Her pen name is Your.Boyfriends.Gynecologist….yeah. weird I know. LoL. Just go to my profile, then look under my favorite author's list, and click on her name. She is very masterful at description. So PLEASE do that! For me? Whoever does, when you review for her, say Christi recommended it, and you will be in the dedication for the next chapter! K?

_Luv Alwayz,_

_Thugette90 AKA Christi_


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